Pillow Talk
by Aeryn Phoenix
Summary: Based on the NWN mods A Dance with Rogues by Valine. Follow up of sorts to "Broken." Series of short, one shot stories, mostly dialogs between Vico and Rynn, dark humor, dark subject matter.
1. Better Left Unanswered

**A/N:** For the record, I hate Rynn. She's eaten my muse. These little stories are basically ideas I had while writing _Broken _that didn't fit into that story but now won't leave me alone. So, to purge these ideas from my system, they are coming out in the form of (usually) short talks between Rynn and Vico at bed time, probably sometime after the end of _Broken_. I'll warn you, they are really random. At the moment I have about five of them going, so I'll post them in the order they get finished, and I haven't a clue how many there will be when my ideas finally dry up. Most of them are meant to be funny, but some, like this one, deal with serious and sometimes delicate issues as well as tying in some of the twisted humor that I can't avoid between these two. I really hope I don't need to say this but...just in case: no thoughts expressed by Vico or Rynn in these stories reflect my own opinions on anything. They have a mind of their own and I can't do much to shut them up even when I try. And I have tried.

I also did another sketchy of these two from the last story and it's up on my dA page.

**Warning:** Language and adult concepts.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own _A Dance with Rogues_, Vico, or the princess' story - they belong completely to Valine. I will take responsibility for Rynn's insanity.

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**Better Left Unanswered**

"Tell me about your first time."

Vico pretended to be asleep, his body rising and falling in a slow rhythm as I stared expectantly at his back. I knew him too well, though, and the fact that he was ignoring me made me want the answer to my question all the more.

"Come on." I gave him a weak shove and he groaned a complaint as though I'd woken him. "Tell me."

"Tell you what?" he grumbled as he rolled over and nuzzled his scruffy face into the crook of my neck, sending delightful shivers down my arms. "How good you taste?"

"You heard me," I murmured but tilted my head to give him better access to my throat. "Tell me about your first."

"My first what?" His voice hummed against my skin like little electric pulses and I just knew there was something juicy behind this story if he was willing to work so hard to distract me from getting an answer. "My first kill?"

I chuckled but the sound faded to a pleased sigh as his hands began to roam. Unfortunately for him, I wasn't about to be dissuaded. "Your first fuck, Vico," I said with enough bluntness that I hoped he would realize I wasn't about to let the question drop. "Come on…it's only fair." My voice dropped to a low whisper, my mouth twisted mockingly as I tilted his face to mine and ran my tongue over his lower lip. "You know all about my first time."

He huffed a sigh against my mouth and pulled his head back to give me a look that implied I wasn't playing fair. "It's not the kind of story little girls should hear before bed, Rynn."

I wasn't prepared for the bitterness in his reluctant tone, or the pain that was obvious behind his eyes. "I want to hear it," I pressed softly. By that point I was pretty sure I _needed_ to hear it.

"Don't say I didn't warn you," he sighed with a shake of his head. "I wasn't even ten years old…and he was a priest at the local temple."

My jaw dropped open and I'm sure my eyes were wide. When I'd first asked, I'd expected some bawdy tale of a hormone driven teen and a prostitute or something, but this was…and his expression made my impression of what had happened to him all the worse. He looked so angry, almost defiant, his proud jaw set with discomfort. "You were…" my voice was barely a squeak, "raped?" His face twisted in a scowl at the word, but he gave one sharp nod. I'd heard vague rumors of such things, but to be honest I'd thought most were made up to cause a scandal. "I…I'm so sorry." There _had_ to be some irony in this situation.

"Don't be," he answered shortly. "It was a long time ago." He looked awkward, his eyes drifting from my face to stare up at the dark ceiling above us, and I was suddenly struck with the notion that he'd probably never told anyone this before. For those very few seconds, he looked so young…vulnerable. I was sad for him, and I felt that with that simple admission I understood him better than I ever had before. I also felt the powerful urge to change the subject and wipe the haunted sadness from his face.

I snuggled in close to him and he pulled me against his chest with a sigh into my hair. "Tell me about your first kill then. I'm sure it's a much more pleasant story."

He chuckled, a hard, malicious sound. "It is. And it includes the same priest."

I tilted my head back to look up at the smug, satisfied smirk on his face. "You killed him?"

"Of course," he said with a widening, cruel grin. "Wouldn't you?"

I snorted a laugh and planted a light kiss on his collarbone. "Don't tempt me."

He laughed too, his mood lightening, and pinched my rear as he pulled me closer. "What about you? Who was your first victim?"

I shifted uncomfortably before I answered. "Rick Cars."

His body gave a little start, then he cupped my chin and turned my eyes up to meet his. "You made your first kill for me?" I nodded, feeling strangely embarrassed or nervous, though I wasn't really sure why. Maybe I just didn't want him to know how much he'd affected me, even back then when I'd pretended he – and what he'd done to me – meant nothing. "Damn, if you were willing to do all that, you must have already had it bad for me."

I scoffed and smacked the back of his head as he laughed. "Only in your dreams. It was just another job."

"Bullshit," he answered with a trace of amusement. "People like us remember all our firsts. So why'd you really take the job?"

"I needed the experience," I shrugged defensively, but he raised a disbelieving eyebrow at me until I sighed and relented. "Alright fine. I'd already had a run-in with Rick at the docks before you asked me to kill him."

Vico's face clouded over with a dark frown. "What do you mean 'run-in'?"

"I mean they tried to extort money from me."

"And…?" he demanded when I fell silent. His face was angry, though I could tell he wasn't upset with me.

"And I didn't have much money," I admitted as I let my fingers play across his muscular chest. His arm was around my waist and I couldn't help but think about how safe I felt in his embrace, so far from all the people who had tried to hurt me. "He…tried to demand an…alternate form of payment." I could hear Vico's teeth grinding. "I managed to fire off some weak little cantrip. I don't even think it hit anybody, but they hesitated long enough for me to get away and hide."

"Fucking bastards," he growled under his breath, his arm tightening around my possessively. "If I'd known that I would have gutted the coward myself."

I smiled because a statement like that coming from Vico that was the same as a poetic profession of his feelings for me. "Well, I'm glad you didn't."

He smirked, teasing amusement pushing aside his irritation. "Enjoyed slitting his throat while he was fast asleep, did you?"

"Very much," I admitted with a grin. "Especially the part where he opened his eyes and recognized me." I chuckled as the image rose in my mind. "I hope he's in some private hell somewhere, cursing me for sending him there."

Vico barked out a laugh and rolled atop me suddenly, holding his weight off of me on his elbows as he pushed my messy hair back from my face with both hands. "You're crazy," he murmured before he gave me a deep languid kiss.

"So are you," I pointed out smugly, grinding my hips against him until he made a small, appreciative groan.

"Yeah," he breathed before he trailed his tongue down the slope of my neck, then dug his teeth into my shoulder in a hard, quick bite. "Ain't it great?"


	2. Of Magic and Flaming Cats

**A/N:** For the record, I love animals. Please don't hate me.

**Warning:** Language.

**Disclaimer:** _A Dance with Rogues_ belongs to Valine.

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**Of Magic and Flaming Cats**

"So, how did my little sorceress get her start, hmm?"

I stifled a yawn against Vico's chest and snuggled closer to his warmth. The man was a damned furnace, a fact I appreciated since I was almost always cold. There was probably some irony in that considering my fondness for spells that ended in fiery explosions.

"What do you mean?" I murmured lazily as I stared over the plane of his chest into the flickering flames of our campfire.

He lolled his head at an angle to gaze down at my face, his fingers playing idly through a few long strands of my hair. "I mean how did you find out you could cast spells?"

"Oh, uh," I gave an embarrassed little laugh as I traced my fingernails down the trail of black, wiry hairs in the center of his tight stomach. "I-it's not really a very..._interesting_ story…."

"Okay, now I definitely need to hear it," he chuckled, rolling a bit on his side presumably to see me better. "Such a horrible liar."

"Well, I…um…" I sighed and trailed off, but he waited patiently because he knew he'd already won. "I…_accidentally_…sort of," I rushed the last words together, "set a cat on fire."

A loud, sharp bark of laughter shook his whole body and his eyes widened in amused surprise even as I gave him the dirtiest look I could come up with. "You…_what_?"

"It was an accident, and I was just a little kid," I explained as I tried not to pout. "My mother had a fondness for animals, so there was always a few wandering around the castle. When I was…I don't know, five or six? I was playing outside and I guess I pulled this little white, fluffy cat's tail."

He snickered and kissed my forehead fondly. "Big bully."

"Hey, I didn't mean to, I was just…I don't know, playing I guess." I didn't want him to know just how embarrassing the whole situation was to me now looking back, but I'd already started the tale and if I didn't finish it he would just bug me until I gave in. "She spun around and scratched my hand. And hissed at me."

Vico was getting far too much entertainment from the story, his whole frame shaking just a little from repressed laughter. "So you just lit her up, huh?"

"Oh, would you shut up," I snapped, though seeing him with a big dopey grin on his face was more endearing than I'd ever let him know. "All I remember was feeling so upset that she'd hurt me. I hadn't meant to pull her tail, it was an accident and I thought the stupid cat should understand that. Then all of a sudden my hands felt…weird, hot, like they were burning. There was pain…and then…."

"Then you torched the wicked little kitty cat straight to hell," Vico finished with a completely serious face. I glowered at him and he broke out laughing again. "Sorry, sorry, go on, princess."

"It was only her tail that caught fire!" I retorted defensively. I could tell Vico was clamping his teeth down on the inside of his cheek to keep laughing aloud again, and I had to admit to myself just how ridiculous I sounded. "Look, I was just a kid. I didn't understand what had happened. I panicked when the cat started running around in the grass, shrieking this horrible, _horrible_ sound. I was afraid someone would hear…afraid I'd be in trouble."

"So you…turned that cat to ash to hide the evidence! Right?" I smacked the dark knight in the arm as hard as I could, but he only laughed harder, his obsidian eyes glittering in the dark.

"This is why I don't tell you anything, jackass."

I tried to roll over but Vico caught me by the shoulders and tried to keep a sober face. He failed. "I'm sorry, really. I'm interested. It's just not every day that someone tells you they ignited a cat." I glared silently at him while he gave me the Vico-equivalent of puppy eyes. "Come on, if you don't finish the story I'll just have to make up my own ending."

I gave a haggard sigh but from his broad grin he knew I would tell him. "The cat was fine – I didn't kill her. I grabbed the blanket I was sitting on and threw it over her. It…took me a few tries, but I caught her and put out the fire."

Vico choked on a laugh as he said, "I bet she scratched the shit out of you."

"Yeah," I admitted grudgingly, my fingers stinging just thinking back about the incident, "she tore me up pretty bad. Of course, she had blisters on her ass for a week thanks to me, so I don't really blame her."

Vico shook his head wonderingly. "So did you get in trouble?"

"Are you kidding?" I snorted. "My hands were covered in scratches and blood, half the grass in the courtyard had been singed black, and there was this sweet, little, white fluff-ball with a charred ass. What do you think?"

He smirked but shook his head. "I think you were a pampered little princess who probably got off easy."

For a moment my thoughts turned grim and I guess my emotions were spread across my face because Vico raised an eyebrow at me. "You'd be surprised," I muttered but I was determined not to think too hard about certain aspects of my childhood. "Regardless, I was in big trouble for a while. But then one of my father's advisors, an old mage who'd been around forever – he'd worked for my father's father – said he thought I had a talent for magic. He took me under his wing, taught me control. For the most part."

"So a dirty old man took you as his 'apprentice,' huh?"

"He wasn't like that," I answered levelly. "He was a good man, a damn good man, and he taught me a lot."

Vico made a noncommittal grunt in reply and I had to smirk at the man's insistence on being jealous of any male having anything to do with me. "Well," he said with painfully obvious mock seriousness, "I guess this explains why you don't have one of those animal familiars. Probably torch the poor thing."

I sighed and rolled my back to the man to get comfortable in our bedroll. "Good night, Vico."

"And here I was thinking about getting you a kitten when all this is over. Good thing you warned me. I hate the smell of burning hair."

"Good _night_, Vico."

I could practically feel the grin on his face as he settled down behind me, his body molding to my backside and his face nuzzling into the back of my neck. I heard him chuckle to himself before he mumbled, "Hot pussy...."

A laugh escaped his throat as I let out an irritated groan. "You're going to go on about this for a while, aren't you?"

"Yep," he assured me with a gentle squeeze of his arm as it snaked around my waist.

"Damn you," I grumbled even as I snuggled back into his warm embrace. "I should never have told you at all."

He laughed again and kissed the edge of my ear. "Nope."


	3. From Blacksmith to Blackguard

**A/N:** Thanks for the reviews. ^.^

**Warning: **Language.

**Disclaimer:** _A Dance with Rogues_ is the property of Valine.

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**From Blacksmith to Blackguard**

"Where did you get your sword?"

"Hmm?" Vico looked up from the whetstone he'd been staring at for the last ten minutes. His gaze had been fixated on the hypnotic rhythm of the stone against the blade and he seemed caught off guard by my sudden question.

"I asked you where you got your sword," I repeated as I propped myself up on one elbow in our shared bedroll. I'd been dozing for the last half-hour, but for some reason sleep was elusive.

"Oh." Something about his somewhat dazed expression made me wonder what he'd been thinking about while he was sharpening his prized weapon. "I made it."

I felt my eyebrows rise in surprise – I hadn't expected that for an answer. "Made it? As in…from scratch?"

He nodded slowly and began passing the stone along the blade once more. "Forged and enchanted by yours truly. And never wielded by another's hand." His voice dropped almost too low for me to hear. "She is mine and mine alone."

Something about his expression and tone gave me the impression that he wasn't just speaking of the blade, but I decided not to think too hard about the implications. "I have a hard time picturing you as a blacksmith."

He smirked and winked at me, though if he was aiming for a lighthearted expression he was failing miserably. "I wasn't born cutting throats, you know."

"It wouldn't surprise me if you were."

He shrugged and looked back down at his sword. "We all started as something else. Didn't we, kitchen girl?"

The corner of my mouth twitched but I maintained a thoughtful expression. "Point." Vico did not respond and I was in danger of losing his attention to the sharpening of his blade, so I pressed on. "Were you Igor's apprentice, then?"

"Smart girl," he answered. He didn't seem in the mood for idle talk but obviously he realized I was, so he indulged me. "I was fifteen when the family took me in. I had to do something to pull my weight."

I nodded slowly. "I know the feeling. I can't imagine you enjoyed the work…."

"Probably as much as you enjoyed washing dishes," he replied with a shrug. "But it was work. And doing something was better than doing nothing."

He fell back into his rhythm, his face dark with brooding thoughts. I sighed and stretched out on my back, gazing up at the inky blackness overhead and letting my mind wander. I suppose Vico's moodiness was contagious and I found myself lost in thoughts about Betancuria, the Bear Pit, my apartment. "Do you ever wish we just had a _normal _life?" I abruptly found myself asking with a touch of bitterness.

There was surprise on the dark knight's face when I glanced over at him, his hand pausing on the sword for a moment. I had the impression he'd been thinking similar thoughts. "What the hell does 'normal' mean?" he grumbled almost defensively.

"Oh I don't know." I sighed and stretched before rolling back onto my side to look at him. "A job that doesn't include slicing people's throats. A hot meal that consists of more than watered down soup and hardtack. Hell, at this point I'd settle for a bed and a roof over my head."

To my surprise, his expression lightened as I spoke, a small smile turning up the corner of his mouth as he suddenly put his sword aside and came to sit beside me on our bedroll. He leaned over me and propped himself up with one arm behind my back while he ran a callused finger across my cheek and smirked down at me. "So you expect me to believe you'd play the sweet little housewife, cooking dinner for your hardworking man, having babies, knitting, sewing, sweeping…?" He trailed off and laughed aloud at the expression on my face. "You'd be bored within a week."

"Maybe," I admitted grudgingly, but I snuggled against him and rested my hand on his knee. "I haven't a clue how to knit, or sew for that matter. I suppose anyone can sweep…and I can _try_ to cook…."

Vico shook his head in mocking distress. "No, no. That won't be necessary."

"Shut up." I slapped his leg lightly and he chuckled under his breath. "As for babies…." I faded off and gave him a calculating look, but his face was neutral, perhaps a bit expectant. I'd be lying if I said the idea of having children had never occurred to me – after all, that is the almost inevitable outcome when one has sex regularly – but it had never crossed my mind that Vico might also think about it. "Do you really think that's such a good idea?" I asked carefully.

"Why not?" he asked, his expression playful but also thoughtful. "I need a Vico Jr. to carry on my legacy, right?"

I snorted, "What legacy?" but my cheeks were burning as I flushed at the thought of having his child. The very idea left me feeling overwhelmingly afraid and excited in turns, especially since he seemed so open to it. "You do realize it could be a girl."

"That's okay," he murmured as he leaned down to brush a kiss across my lips. "We can name her Vico Jr. too."

I couldn't help but laugh, yet I felt sobered by the weight of the idea of having a child, the responsibility of a new life in my hands. I shifted my face back from him a little to look levelly into his dark eyes. "We're murderers," I said flatly, neither shame nor pride in my tone. It was what we were, after all. "We're fugitives. The Dhorn will never stop hunting me. Any child of ours would be…."

"Would be safe," Vico interrupted, his expression suddenly fierce. "I would make sure of it. You know I'll protect you."

I loved that proud, determined look he wore at moments like that, and I had to smile at him. "I know," I assured him with a squeeze of his knee. "It's just hard for me to picture us as parents."

He shrugged. "I think we'd do just fine. Our kid wouldn't grow up a blind fuck up like other kids. I'd teach him…or her…how to survive, how to take what he needs instead of just sitting on his ass waiting for someone to hand it to him. And you…well you could teach him how to burn water and make bread rolls into flaming projectiles."

That time I smacked him in earnest, but he just laughed and gently pinned me down by my arms. "That only happened once," I snapped, but I was smiling in spite of myself. He tilted his head down and kissed my throat playfully and I sighed contentedly. "I never imagined you'd want to be a father, Vico."

He pulled back and gave me a very serious, searching stare. "I didn't." He dipped his mouth close to my ear, sending warm shivers down my shoulder even as my heart melted at the loving look I'd seen in his eyes. "Until I found you."


End file.
